“It doesn't matter. We'll find a way.Youalways do.”
He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, before gripping me and looking deep within my eyes. “You're right. Let's keep going. We don't stop until we get to the next halfway point.”
“Can you keep going? I'm not the one who's wounded,” I reminded him. “We need to look at that.”
“No.”
“Crispin…Please. I can't do this without you.”
“Okay, let's go back to the inner chamber.”
When the cavern opened again, I sighed in relief. “We need to stop here. I need to look at your wound,” I said, forcing Crispin to sit down.
“I don't think it's that bad.” He winced as he sat on the ground.
“I'll be the judge of that.”
Dropping our packs, I unhooked his bedroll and laid it down so he could lie on top of it. Blood soaked the front of his shirt.
Carefully, I peeled back the layer of cotton. A deep slash carved across his side, the skin puckered, an angry flash of red spreading out from the wound. Blood welled at the edges. Thankfully, it was a clean cut, easy enough to stitch. Then we would only need to worry about an infection. If we were lucky, the Deathless One didn’t coat his blades in anything sinister.
“How did this happen?” Opening my satchel, I searched for the med kit I had packed in there.
“I didn't even see him,” Crispin said. “The guinea hens started squawking, and then when I looked up, he was there. He may be an immortal, but he wasn’t ready for these muscles.”
“Did you toss him across the valley?” I asked jokingly, taking out the bottle of whiskey and unscrewing the top and handing it to him.
“You know I did,” he said before taking three long gulps and giving it back. “Go ahead.”
I poured the alcohol over his chest.
He gripped my knee.
“Sorry,” I said, handing him back the whiskey.
Crispin took a few more sips before continuing. “We have a chance, Deirdre. A real chance.”
I gave him a smile that hid my doubt. I wanted more than just a chance of survival.
“Lie back.” Carefully, I threaded the needle and put one hand on his side. “Ready?”
He nodded and closed his eyes.
“Tell me how you tossed the Deathless One across our valley.”
“There was a portal,” Crispin said. “Kane came running out of it and his shadows… He can make them tangible and into weapons. He tried to stab me, but when he did, I grabbed him and then I…” Crispin paused as I pushed the needle through his skin, and he gritted his teeth.
“Sorry. I'll try to go as quickly as possible.”
Sweat beaded down his brow and traced his temple. His normally flushed cheeks bloomed redder from the whiskey.
“I grabbed him and then pretty much tossed him. That’s when he switched to creating that shadow arrow. I don’t think he was expecting a mortal to vault him across the grass.”
Crispin chuckled, and I used that momentary distraction topush the needle through again. His laugh ended in a murmured cry as his jaw clenched, and his fingers dug into my side.
“Did you see his face when I pulled him under the ground?” I asked.
“I think that was my favorite part.” Crispin gazed at me, the hair around his forehead slick with sweat. He reached over and rubbed his hand across my thigh. “You did good.”
